Advance Wars: Rise of the White Sun
by FerretFelix
Summary: When Eagle's forces stray from Green Earth, eyebrows are raised. It is suspected that he has sworn alleigeance to Black Hole, but there is more then meets the eye, as a new enemy rises...
1. Bad News

Advance Wars: Rise of the White Sun Chapter 1: Bad News 0800 HOURS

'Andy, we need ground forces mobile, now!' Shouted Nell down the intercom in the war room. 'Green Earth are moving in hostiles! They're trying to take the H.Q!'

Her voice was riddled with worry and determination. Andy, taken aback by the news, replied, his voice wavering with an implacable emotion. 'Wha-a-What? We had a treaty? An agreement! What happened! Who's the CO?'

'That's uncertain at this time, but multiple airborne signals suggest Eagle. As for the treatie, we have no way of knowing. We are not entitled to such knowledge by our superiors, you know tha-'

'EAGLE! Oh no, I'm not fightin' him again, not since last time.'

'But there are no other Commanding Officers available.' Nell was persistent in her efforts to persuade Andy into engaging wit the feared tactician. 'I LOST 3 OF MY CLOSEST FRIENDS IN THAT AIRSTRIKE! ONE OF THEM WAS MY BROTHER! But d'you know what's worse, Nell? He laughed at me. HE LAUGHED AT MY FALLEN COMRADES! Never again…' Andy bowed his head and closed his eyes. A small tear could be seen to trickle calmly down his cheek. 'Look Andy, no one's more regretful of that than I am, but if we don't do this, we'll lose this war. You're in this fight, and that's a direct order! Break it and you will be Court Marshalled without mercy. There is no choice.' Nell's usually calm voice had grown harsh and stern, a side of her which Andy had not seen before, and he doubted many had. He dried his eyes and uttered one word. 'Fine'. Nell leaned back in her chair and relaxed. 'I'm sorry. You know as well as anyone that if I could send someone else, I would. It's out of my hands. I'm sorry. Now, report to the War Room for debriefing and unit deployment.

0900 HOURS The War Room 

Andy was unusually quiet when compared to his normal, loud and excited self. Nell began the debriefing; 'Now, as you are aware, our radars detected hostile forces moving in on our location at 0800 hours. Such forces were also reported to have recently attacked Blue Moon, of whom we have a strong alliance with. They provided us with useful information of which we can use to or mutual advantage. We now have confirmation that the active Commanding Officer is Eagle of Green Earth. However, after a long debate, we have reason to believe that he is not under the faction's order. It is possible that he has been employed by Black Hole against the wishes of Green Earth. At this point, it is impossible to tell. Now, our best bet is to station Anti Aircraft guns around the shore to fight back the wealth and might of his army. There are also a large number of naval units on the way. As with the AA guns, to counter these, we have stationed various submarines around the city. With luck, this should prevent him from reaching the shore. There is still a possibility that he will, however, so we are mobilising medium tanks, reconnaissance and infantry units, both mechanised and regular, most of which shall be deployed around the H.Q. Enemy forces should come within firing range at approximately 0100 hours. That about wraps it up. Any questions?' Nell looked around the room. She focused on Andy. 'None? Andy?' He solemnly shook his head. 'Good. Then we're ready. Andy, I'll be on hand to supply advice, but I'm afraid that's all I can do. But don't worry. This won't be like the last time. I'll make sure of it.' Normally, Nell's words would be reassuring to Andy. This time they weren't. He nodded and left.

0950 HOURS  The Battlefield

The atmosphere was tense as a carrier helicopter weaved through the sky above the city. Below, the helpless soldiers looked like ants as they worriedly prepared for the oncoming attack, aware of the fact that many of them would not see the battle's grim conclusion. There was a group of mechanics clearing the helicopter's landing pad. Vomit churned in Andy's stomach as he observed the scene. He knew that as soon as the copter touched down, he was as good as dead. The copter he was in was flanked by two others, containing his squad. He also felt a sense of guilt that he would be behind all the action, and not on the front line like all the soldiers, desperate for a way out of the situation. But no matter how long they waited, no retreat order was passed. No brilliant news of enemy forces withdrawing. Just the stench of vomit and fear. The blades slowed as the helicopter landed on top of the H.Q, soon followed by the other two. Andy climbed out of the cockpit, silent as the rotors blew his hair to and fro randomly. There was no going back. As the members of his squad dismounted, he thought of his fallen comrades. He thought of facing the enemy that had taken them from the world. The enemy that had laughed in his face after doing so. He curled his hand into a fist and collapsed to his knees on the concrete floor. He took deep breath to fight back the sickness. It wasn't working. He was helped up by one of his squad as the helicopters each took off in turn, and flew back to safety. He scrambled after them on all fours, spluttering out random noises in desperation, only to vomit repeatedly. The men on the pad shook their heads sorrowfully before helping him up again and walking him down into the H.Q.

The building was heavily guarded, more so than usual, for obvious reasons. The windows were lined with snipers and the doors with armed guards. Andy was escorted into the Tactical Operations room. In the centre, there was a large table with a digitised LCD display of a bird's eye view of the city, with tracking devices on all squads and squad members. A cruel way of preventing unauthorised retreat. A good way of issuing direct orders to specific units. A voice buzzed through speakers at the corners of the room; 'Enemy forces still advancing. They shall enter firing range in approximately 3 minutes.' Andy sat and was supplied with a glass of chilled water as he recovered steadily. The city's defence minister spoke out; 'Mr Andrews, requesting permission to launch a sword of Class A Sparrow fighters to intercept the enemy aircraft.' Andy sat, shaking, seemingly ignorant to the man's words. 'Sir, we need to launch now, else we'll suffer the attack head on, facing almost certain defeat!' Andy still sat silently, images of the falling bombs, screaming soldiers running for their lives, the penetrating sound of Eagle's cold blooded laughter. Andy gripped the glass firmly, shattering it, sending shards into hi fingers and water down his front. He brushed the glass off his person and sat up. 'Granted' he said firmly. He was no longer shaking. Anger coursed through his blood, his heart beating unhealthily fast. One thought stuck in his head, one word running over and over. REVENGE.

The 5 aircraft took off in formation and had broken the sound barrier within 20 seconds of leaving the airfield. The squadron leader armed his weapons. 'Eagle 3, Fox 1, loaded.' The other 4 pilots mimicked this. 'This is squad leader, we have confirmed visual, reading 5 bogeys, look like scout class fighters. Maintain formation!'

'Roger'

'Affirmative'

'Roger Wilco'

'Aye, roger'

The pilots sped on, ready to fire at first contact. 'This is 3, I have an incoming missile!'

'Evade! Evade!'

'I can't, it's a heat seeker! Requesting immediate assistanc-' His panicked voice was cut off. Only a small explosion could be seen through the dense clouds. The shattered wreckage of the plane sped to the waters below in various pieces, before hitting the surface of the water and sinking along the with remains of the man who had valiantly piloted it. 'CONTACT!'


	2. Contact!

Chapter 2: Contact 1000 HOURS Over the Sea

'3 is down! We are taking hits! Requesting immediate backu- What the? I can see boats, a whole fleet! No sig on the radar though! Nell, what's going on?' The pilot struggled with the controls as waited on a response. Nell spoke over the radio from the war room. 'Looks like they've got low sig, but, that makes no sense! We have enhanced radar! This could pick up a fly a mile off if we wanted it to!' While she pondered the fought, the planes remained locked in a fight to the death above the treacherous waters. One of the enemy planes was taken down by a rocket launched by 5, who was writhing through the sky eratically with hope of shaking off a missile that was hot on his trail. He failed. '5 is down! We need backup! Request to return to base!' He screamed as he flew in circles pointlessly attempting to keep the enemy craft in his sight. 'Denied.' Nell was firm in her decision. 'We have to keep you airborne. Without you, we're all doomed. This is on your shoulders. We're sending Catapult Interceptor Planes, however, to flank the enemy.' She moved from the radio. 'You heard the man, Andy, we have null sig naval units! Mobilise submarines! Launch the Catapults!' Andy proceeded swiftly to another radio; 'Mobilise Submarines! Launch the Catapults!'

'Roger, ready to go.' Buzzed a voice through the loudspeaker. Andy looked out the window as 12 white aircraft sped vertically upwards in perfect formation before heading straight ahead. 'This is Catapult unit 1, squadron leader, requesting orders!' Andy leaned over to the radio. 'The enemy are about 70 degrees north of your current position, but we need to enact a flank manouvere. We need half each side of the enemy squadron, which consists of 7 planes currently. You have your orders.'

'Roger that, out!' The 12 planes split off 6 aside in opposite directions to trap the enemy and salvage their falling comrades.

Up ahead, only 2 Orange Star planes remained intact as they swerved violently, firing rockets completely awry as they attempted to survive. An attempt that lay seemingly in vane, as 2 spiralled towards an enemy battleship, its wings destroyed, flames spewing maliciously from its battered cockpit. It smashed into the ships hull, sending a dozen or so helpless crewmembers flying in all directions. 4 flew on carelessly, neglecting the controls as he saw no hope. His eyes shut and his hands clasped, he heard a noise. An explosion, too distant to be his craft blowing up. He opened his eyes and saw 12 heavenly white angels flying in and destroying the evil. He screwed his eyes shut and reopened them. The angels remained, pouring in from left and right, all guns ablaze.

'Catapults!' He cried aloud, his voice ripe with a quivering joy and an overcome fear. Then he saw the water, rising up to meet him at a terrifying speed. He gripped the controls and pulled back, sending the plane upwards into the grey sky. But his turn was too sharp, and part of the back of the plane hit the water at such a velocity that a portion of the craft was torn off and cast into the depths below. His balance lost, he struggled to keep the plane flying. The shape of the city emerged faintly on the skyline to his far left, so he arced horizontally to meet it. Below, from the command tower of a battleship, a man pointed and a large mounted turret rotated to meet the plane's path. The turret fired. There were two identical guns on it that stood side by side, alternating between each after every shot. The first hit put a hole through the planes wing, setting it alight. The plane was shaken off course with the explosion. 4 looked to his right to see an inferno creeping closer towards him. He struggled and slowed his plane, flying downwards. He positioned it so that the flaming wing was aiming towards the water as he flew on, now travelling diagonally. He pulled up slowly near the water, safely submerging the damaged wing. Sparks flew off as he pulled out and tried to regain balance, such a thing which is difficult when one has no tail and a broken wing on his aircraft. He righted himself and headed back to the coast at full speed, toe-rolling frantically to avoid the AA rounds. He flew through the swarm of friends and foes, ignorant of the many planes falling around him. He had come this far. He wouldn't fail now. He _couldn't_.

He could see past the shore now. He could see soldiers, preying in desperation. He realised his cowardice before deciding it was the correct course of action. As he finished pondering the though, a 22ml shell tore through the plane's hull. He was going down not into the sea, but worse, into the soldier ridden shore. Some saw him; some were oblivious to the mangled plane. He fiddled with a box before releasing the latch and removing a flare gun. He smashed the cockpit window with his elbow, leaned out and fire 2 flares, one directly above the coast, one directly upwards. He knew he would die. He could do nothing. He wept at his failure. He wept at his useless efforts. It was as if everything fell silent around him as his doom sped up to meet him. His was vision blurred with tears. He saw his family. He saw his colleagues. He saw his little girl. He saw a ladder fall through the cockpit. He saw a man leaning out of a window, beckoning to him to climb the ladder. He wiped his eyes and checked again. It remained. He grabbed on and began to climb, his hand fumbling with the ropes out of desperation. The man in the cockpit raised the ladder, carrying him out of his death bed. The plane, now empty, continued down and hit an oblivious mech' infantry squad, instantly crushing and burning them. 'You ok?' The pilot seemed friendly enough. 'Yeah, a-at least I think so.' He stuttered, his entire body shaking. 'Hate to say it, but we're going back in there. Sorry, but I can't break an order. I'd set you down on the shore, but, hell, it's packed with infantry. Sorry.'

4 nodded jerkily. As much as he hated it, he knew it was true. 'What's your name anyways?' said the pilot, leaning over to see the man's badge.

'P-Peter. Peter Henderson.'

'I'm Martyn Lane, good to meet you.' He put his hand out to shake, but withdrew it after noticing how shaken the man was. The plane flew back into the battle and continued to fight, spraying a hail of bullets at enemy planes in defense of the city.

Back at HQ, they watched the map table as the Catapult planes kept disappearing from it as they blew up over the sea. Another wave of fighters flew in. The Catapults were trapped. Nell spoke out; 'Wait. Those aren't just fighters. They're escorts.' She pointed at a collection little cones on the map. 'Bombers.' Said Jones through clenched teeth. Andy trembled as again, the memories came flooding back to him. He shook his head violently and stood up. 'Launch swords 2 and 3 of the Catapults now!' He proclaimed. 'Those bombers are NOT reaching the land if I have anything to do with it.' As before, a ground of planes sped up past the window. Pincer manoeuvre. Team 3, try and get the bombers right in the back. Team 2, split off half and get them from both sides. We have to stop those bombers.

'Roger, carrying out orders.'

'Affirmative.' The 2 squadrons did as instructed, leaving a trail of smoke in their wake.

More ships were moving in now, their Anti Aircraft guns belting out at the remaining planes. Another squadron of fighters was moving in. The leader intercepted the comm. Radio and spoke; 'This is Eagle of White Sun! Surrender now and I shall take the city. Continue to resist and I hall shatter your city, your forces and your dignity! What shall it be?' His voice was as cold as could be expected by Andy.

'We are not withdrawing, Eagle!' Andy's voice screamed down the airwaves, bleating out in Eagle's face. 'Hmm, what was that? I wonder… Was that the RUNT? Hello Mr Andrews. I trust you've not forgotten our last encounter?' He cackled maniacally, a wide, evil grin spreading over his war beaten features. 'I can hear the bombers now! And do you know what else I can hear? I can hear your useless planes, travelling to their doom. And there they are!' He exclaimed contentedly. 'LIGHTNING STRIKE!' A missile could be heard exploding not far off. A voice came through on the other line of the radio. 'This is Catapult lance 2 squadron leader! We have contact! 8 is down!' Nell watched at the map as the friendly signals all disappeared, listening to the sounds of the screams down the radio. Within a minute they were all gone.

Two planes returned to base, an airborne army on their tail as they weaved back. The bombers were coming. They couldn't be stopped.


	3. Ground Forces

CHAPTER 3: Ground Forces 1100 HOURS The Battlefield

'Just received word that the fighters had a rough time, which we already know it seems.' Said Sami, nodding at the wreckage of a plane scattered up the coast. 'They're comin' full force, bombers an' all. We have to wait for our orders before we can do anymore, but they're gonna be here soon, and we ain't got any, so we're gonna station around the buildings if we can. Johnson, Brooks, make sure the AA guns are ready for a head on assault, or we've got no chance in hell of pullin' this thing off. Alpha, Bravo, you can form up around some buildings somewhere, or you can stay on the front line with me. Your choice today people, but if your man enough, I know where you'll be. Kensie, I know where you'll be, eh? Up front like the man you were born to be!' She winked at him. He gulped. The frontline was the _last _place he wanted to be. 'Ok, move out!' About three quarters of the men scattered up the coast, seeking cover in the urban area. Kensie stayed at the front against his wishes. He was shaking all over, forced to sit due to sudden weakness in his legs. His stomach churned uncomfortably as he waited, loading his weapon. He tried to stand up and run back, but his conscience forced him to remain on the beach. The waves sapped at the sand, crawling closer to his feet with every one. He stared at the intricate patterns formed by the water's mark on the sand. A shadow was cast over his gaze. He jerkily turned his head. Sami stood behind him, half a grin spread across her face, 'You can go. You know you can. I won't see you any differently.' She left to let him make a decision. She knew he'd go. He clambered up to the promenade and ran for the closest, largest building he could see. Suddenly he heard a sound that struck fear into his soul.

The warning siren sounded loud and clear. Kensie's heart raced. They were coming. Sami's voice screamed through various speakers through the city. '30 SECONDS UNTIL THE ENEMY COME WITHIN FIRING RANGE!' He was stuck. He wouldn't make it to the city in time. But dare he go back to the frontline? '20 SECONDS!' His face scanned the area for cover. Nothing. '25 SECONDS!' That was it. He charged at the beach full speed, staring at the floor, only looking up occasionally to ensure the he wouldn't trip. '10 SECONDS!' He reached the beach and skidded down to the remainder of his regiment. '5, 4, 3,' 2 seconds of silence. All of a sudden, the silence was shredded as the piercing sound of 22mm rounds being launched out of large AA guns, hammering in the ears of the soldiers, leaving them deafened and disoriented. The first wave of planes was in clear view now, oncoming through a thick hail of bullets. Missile batteries unleashed volleys of explosives that splayed out randomly with hope of colliding with their targets. Soon, all the infantry had joined in the firing, empty shells pouring out onto the sands and carpeting them. A plane fell into the sea, sending a wall of water flying into one of the AA guns. One of the fighters swooped and fired a missile at one of the gun. There was no escape for the crew as they were mercilessly torn apart by the explosion, sending shrapnel in all directions. Figures of Ships drew closer from the horizon. The submarines surged forwards beneath the waters, their weapons armed, prepared for frontal assault. Above water, the infantry were failing to hold the shoreline. Bombers were drawing closer now, unheard over the chaos of the guns. Sami picked up the radio, her gun held in one hand, firing a constant stream of deadly metal. 'IT'S HELL OUT HERE! I NEED RIENFORCEMENTS!'

Back at H.Q, Sami's voice could barely be heard over the gunfire. 'She's not lying.' Said Nell, stating the obvious. 'They're getting torn to pieces by those planes, and if those bombers land a hit, they're all dead. We can pull them out, or we can send Tanks in. You're call, Andy, but we haven't time to sit around.' Andy didn't need to think about it. 'Pull them out, Jones! It's like Nell said, when the bombers reach the shore, they're doomed. That's final.' Jones again proceeded to the radio, picked it up and began; 'All forces retreat! I repeat, all forces retreat! Pull out now or you will be killed! Retreat! Retreat!' Many of the infantry couldn't even hear the words. Sami began to shout as she fired; 'WE HAVE A RETREAT ORDER, EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY! EVERYONE! UP'N'OUT, NOW!' All the soldiers began to climb back up the beach; some were running, stumbling as they went; some were slowly walking backwards as they fired off steadily at the oncoming foes. There was another explosion as another rocket was fired at an AA gun before the crew could dismount and make their way back to the city. The ships were near the beach now; another minute and all hell would be let loose. As if the planes weren't hell enough.

Most of the soldiers were crossing the roads of the city, still being blasted at mercilessly by planes. Only a few saw the bombs drop. Only a few saw the helpless men on the beach erased from wars world as they screamed out in anguish and pain, their useless cries unheard over the blitz of explosives and the roar of guns. Only a handful of men looked back, the rest compelled to flee more so than ever, in fear that this battle would be their last. Two words spread from Sami's lips. 'DOUBLE TIME!' All the soldiers were hastened in their retreat, as if blessed with some new found energy that had been previously undiscovered. Another air strike hit, killing a dozen or so more of the soldiers. Andy was truly mortified. His mind was clogged with the drums of war. His voice, now mono-toned, imbued with hatred and regret, was heard by all in the room. 'Send in Max's tank division! Those infantry are already dead otherwise! What do you think they'll have in those carriers? And when they touch down… That's an order! Send in Medium Tanks!' Jones gave the order. The factory doors were raised, revealing Max and a platoon of 20 Medium tanks. 'Let's roll, people.'

There was a tremendous cacophony as the steel machines charged out of the building in single file, before forming up formation. They travelled forth through the city, trampling the shrubs and fences that they came across. The weather was terrible; a torrential downpour of cold, lashing rain, masked by a slight mist only noticeable to those trying to see it. The soaked ground hindered the tanks progress, slowing them to about half the usual speed. Max looked out the hatch in one of the tanks. 'Good job Olaf isn't here…' He climbed back into the tank and judged the amount of time they had until they came into combat on the radar. 'I reckon we've got about a minute and a half.' He took the mouthpiece. 'Bout a minute an' a half people, so get ready!' The crew braced themselves as the exhausted infantry drew into sight, running full speed away from the airborne menace. All the soldiers were dying before them, falling victim to a horrific onslaught of lead. There was another explosion and 7 men were flung into the air crying out in pain. This couldn't be the planes. This was…

Neo Tanks! They came walking after the infantry, their cannons beating them to a pulp in the rain. Then the saw Max's platoon, and their fire was instantaneously redirected. The cannons fired, knocking out 3 tanks in one hit. Max cringed. He knew he couldn't match a platoon of Neo Tanks. Unless… 'MAX FORCE!' He screamed, a surge of energy running through his masculine body. An aura of power spread from him, affecting every tank in his platoon. They began to fire, destroying all the opposing ground forces. The infantry staggered past them with hope of making it back to the safety of the barracks. Nell's voice channelled through Sami's radio. 'APCs are on the way! Hang in there!' She kept running and firing frantically, inspired by the sight of the tanks. The last friendly plane burst out in flames above the shore, as Peter Henderson and Martyn Lane ejected, their parachutes fanning out in the sky like the feathers of a peacock. Three bullets flew through Martyn's parachute, sending him spiralling down to the beach at a speed far greater than anything safe. Peter cried out; 'Martyn!' No one heard him. Nothing could be done. However, when Martyn hit the floor, the blow was less than fatal, but his legs were badly injured. One of the Eagle's commanders stepped on his legs, forcing a scream from his dry, chapped lips. He chuckled. Peter hit the ground, making a safer landing. Three enemy soldiers seized him and carried him off. The same happened to Martyn.

Eagle flew overhead above a sea of napalm falling over the Orange Star. He spotted a huge office building full of defenceless civilians, praying for their safety. He aimed directly at one of the highly polished windows and launched a high explosive missile. It pierced through the sheet of glass and detonated on contact with a table, knocking the contents of the whole story, flaming out of the window. He flew directly though the hole, clearing a path with his machine guns before exiting at the other side. The building collapsed from the hole up, falling in on itself reducing its walls to rubble. A similar building was crushed as a bomber unleashed it's cargo unto the world. The city had become site of a massacre.

The planes were only about a mile and a half from the H.Q, and nothing could be done to stop them. All the AA guns available had been stationed on the beach, and the city defences round the building weren't enough to repel the assault. There was only one option. They had to…

'SURRENDER THE H.Q!' Cried Nell over the intercom. 'If we stay here, Eagle's forces will kill us! The helicopters are en route as we speak. Please proceed calmly to the roof! That is a direct order! We are surrendering the H.Q!' Andy and Jones were escorted up a lift and onto the roof. Eagle tapped into the radio channel. 'I'm coming to get you, Runt!' His voice made Andy shiver uncontrollably. Another voice came through on the radio. 'This is the air rescue team; we've come across a problem! Erratic and dangerous weather conditions are preventing our arrival! We'll be delayed.' Nell stamped her left foot on the floor three times consecutively, the sound resounding through the room. 'We're doomed…' She said, picking up the radio. 'The helicopters have been delayed! We're trapped! Everyone find cover!' She jumped over the war table and ducked behind it. Andy sprinted to the radio on the roof. 'Nell, can't we go to the bunker?' The bunker which he was referring to was stationed directly beneath the building for such a situation. Nell replied. 'Andy, there's no time! Get into cover, now!' He peered off the edge. A flood of people had poured out of the front door. From one floor, a chair flew through the window and a man jumped out, falling to the ground like a stone. Andy withdrew. He searched the roof. Nothing but the hut containing the lift. Nell was right. There truly was no time. Andy could see Satan and his minions zooming in on the building. 'Eagle…' He muttered to himself solemnly. His voice buzzed through the radio. 'Give me a wave!' He said sadistically.

Nell peered over the table to see a missile directly ahead. It shattered the window. It hit the table. Nell was launched backwards through the wall. Jones was sucked in and expelled out of the gaping hole that had been the window. The floor around Andy cracked, prepared to cave in with the slightest touch. All the other planes opened fire now, eating away at the once mighty structure. He was stuck. He ran for the lift, his palm mashing the button, his body overcome by desperation. But the power had been knocked out. Andy thought to himself, thousands of thoughts surging through his mind. He removed a crowbar from his tool belt and lodged it in the door before levering it open. He ran in and undid the hatch inside the roof of the lift. He climbed up into the small space above the lift, removing a knife from his belt. He positioned himself in the corner. He slashed at one of the cords, severing it. The lift fell, extending the one cord that it was now connected to. As it fell, he heard part of the roof cave in, showering rubble down on Nell's head, who was now running awry for an escape route. The lift door had been blasted apart in the explosion, revealing the falling container to Nell, who spied a route out. She peered out into the shaft, looking down. The lift continued to fall. She looked up to see Andy, clipping his belt to the remaining cord. She cried out, preying that he would hear him over the sound of the building being demolished. He looked down. 'Nell! I'm coming down, but I don't know if I'll be able to save you! This place is falling to pieces!' The whole H.Q shook as the lift hit the bottom, crushed by the immense force. 'Andy, I'm stuck! Please! Do something!' Andy began to walk down, his feet against the walls and his hands firmly gripped on the cord. An explosion in the war room km knocked Nell out into the shaft. She lunged wildly at the air but found nothing. Andy let go of the cord and took his feet off the walls, gliding down, occasionally preventing himself from falling too fast by placing his feet against the sides of the shaft. He released a length of rope from his belt, struggling to attach it to the same hook that the cord was attached to. He did so, and dropped the rope. Nell grabbed it. 'TIE IT ROUND YOUR WAIST!' She fastened it around her belt twice to ensure that it was secure. Andy slowed his descent with his feet and stopped completely. He began to walk down again, faster now. Explosions triggered around them as they finally reached the wreck at the bottom of the shaft.

There was next to no room to escape the shaft; only a small opening was visible. Nell undid the rope and wormed through it, out into the ground floor, now a pile of rubble and broken furniture. She stood and ran to the reception desk. Two people were behind it. One lay in a pool of her own blood, impaled on half a tile that had fallen from the ceiling. The other was backed against the wall in an effort to avoid the blood of her colleague. Nell swallowed a mouthful of her vomit. 'We need to get out! Please! Just come! Quickly!' She climbed over and held out her hand. Andy clambered through the gap into the room. 'Nell, we have to go! Get the survivors and get out!' The shaken secretary took her hand and scrambled over the desk. There was a rumbling as the fist and second floor and their contents fell through the remains of the ceiling, followed by the rest of the building. Andy dashed to a painting on the wall. He picked it up and threw it onto a pile of rubble, revealing a small glass sheet. He smashed it with his elbow, breaking through to a keypad. Half of the room collapsed in, sending tables, chairs and computers falling into the room. Andy finished the sequence, opening a secret door hidden away in the wall. The three climbed down them and Andy hit a large button on the wall, sealing it again. They headed through an arch into a staircase that led 500 steps down into a huge room. It was a replica of the war room, but was stocked with supplies and various other necessities. There were 20 vents that led of into the countryside so as never to be found. At one end of the room there was a door but they neglected it. Shaking, Andy levered the crates open. They all took food and water as they observed the situation on the war map. The building had completely fallen; Eagle's forces had succeeded in destroying the H.Q. The infantry were still running, but resistance was futile. Most of the Neo Tanks ad been destroyed, and the enemy infantry was routing on the carriers. But the battle wasn't over… not yet.

Nell began to speak. 'That door leads to a network of corridors that link up every Orange Star Headquarters on the mainland. It's our only way out, and the only way of saving the city. But we'd need to persuade the head CO of wherever we go to provide reinforcements.' Andy agreed. 'So it's settled. We have to go now, else all our forces will be crushed before anything can be done.' They headed for the door. Another code separated them for their escape. Nell removed a swipe card from her person and dipped it into a tiny space in the floor that was invisible as it was backed up against the wall. A panel near the door opened up and another keypad was revealed. Even Andy wasn't entitled to such a combination. Nell stepped forward, her unnecessary high heels tapping on the gleaming titanium floor. She tapped in 24 digits. Andy gave her an odd look. 'Better to be safe than sorry!' She said, pressing the last button in the sequence. Andy prepared to exit through the door, but Nell turned to the east wall to see it split into two, both top and bottom half folding away into the floor and ceiling. Andy stared blankly. 'What about the door?' Nell chuckled. 'That door leads to a separate tunnel. It spans about 3 miles, and roughly half way down branches off in two directions, creating 3 routes. All lead to a room with door at the other end. If they touch the handle, we certainly won't be seeing them again. It's rigged with explosives that are more than lethal. There's 3 motion lasers so once they enter the room, the doors seal behind them, leaving no way out, which as well as trapping them means that the explosion can't get out. 1 hour after detonation, the door opens again, inviting another victim. The part with the fake door was my little idea. Hate to be cruel but if they fall for it then it's their fault for trying to infiltrate the Orange Star.' She opened the door and peered into the darkness, before leaning in and flicking a switch on the wall. The tunnel filled with light, as one by one, bulbs that ran along the whole length of the corridor lit up with a luminous aura. Andy stared down it, horrified. 'Bet you're glad I said something, huh?' Nell joked, taking note of his expression. He grunted and cleared his voice. 'Let's just go then.' He said, closing the door. Nell pressed a red button on the keypad and the tile slid back over, concealing it for what was likely to be eternity. The three headed towards the wall the hole in the room with haste so as to save the soldiers who fought valiantly 500 steps above them.

Ships continued to unload evil war machines unto the Orange Star. They were caught in a mangle of Fighter Jets, Bombers, Neo Tanks, Infantry and destroyers as they fought to protect the infantry whose hopes were constantly being crushed as they stared at what was once the might H.Q building. They had nowhere to go. Sami scanned the now barren landscape for a destination. Another building crumbled to her instant right, sending chunks of concrete skidding across the roads. Over 50 infantry alone had died already, and no end was in sight.

Beneath the war torn streets, Nell, Andy and the Secretary struggled on through the dimly lit tunnels, striving to the nearest friendly H.Q. The secretary was still too shaken to speak. Clearly, seeing one's colleague die helplessly before you is a truly horrific experience. Time dragged on relentlessly as the unlikely trio trundled on as fast as their legs would allow without running. The cities were a matter of miles. Exhaustion was the last thing they needed. Andy broke the gloom of the silence. 'So what's your name anyway?' He spoke softly to the woman, trying not to upset her anymore. But it was clear that he was making her feel weak in the tone of voice he was using. She was seemingly impossible to please. 'I'm called Donna.' She said, clearly trying to gather herself to prevent excess of embarrassment. Andy spoke up again; 'So…' He was terrible at making conversation with people he'd not previously spoken to informally. He began to pull lies out of nowhere. Now he was embarrassed. 'I had a sister called Donna once. She lives back home away from the war. It's kinda hard to avoid though, I mean, we do live in _'Wars World'_. He smiled. Donna half sniggered, but Andy could tell it was to spare him a horrible feeling of awkward out-of-placeness. Nell put on a very 'get a load of this guy face' which didn't go down a storm with Andy, who had noticed and now turned a pitiful shade of pink. He had to distract them from his clownishness, so he distracted their attention to what seemed to be a miracle.

A rail-running tram system at the side of the tunnel form quick and easy travel between cities in case of emergencies such as this. They climbed in. Andy took the main seat and put his hands to a control panel. 4 arrows; 2 down, 2 up, and one block; centre. The 2 up arrows were lit. Andy scratched his head. 'It's not hard!' Nell proclaimed and continued; 'They made it simple for simpletons! Are you simple Andy?' He shook his head no. 'Well why can't you do it?' He sat there working it out. 'I tryin'! If you didn't notice, I've been spendin' a lot of time savin' your ass recently. You should know I've got other things on my mind!' He protested, reaching out for the second up arrow. The tram shot into motion at shocking speed, racing towards their destination. '2 up arrows for different speeds forwards, 2 for backwards, and one for brakes! See, told you I knew!' Nell sighed and shook her head, re-attaining her 'get a load of this guy' expression.

Back up on the field, things looked grim as the soldiers continued to run, covered by Max's tank division. People began to take cover and lay down suppressing fire from behind the wrecks. Running was over. It was time to fight like men.


	4. Backup

**CHAPTER 4: Backup**

**1200 HOURS**

**Under the H.Q**

The tram sped on through the underground tunnel network that the Orange Star used as an emergency escape route. Nell, Andy and Donna sat in the cart, eager to reach the nearest city and call in backup units to assist the soldiers above ground, who were fighting a losing battle. They held their ground near the outskirts of the city, fighting to survive. Time was running out. If help wasn't sent for soon, there'd be no one left. But a ray of hope beamed through. A light at the end of the tunnel shone over 2 double doors at the end of the expanse. Andy slammed the brake button, drawing the cart to a halt at the dismount station. The track headed on past the door, no doubt to other cities.

The three climbed out and charged towards the doors. Nell whammed a large red button mounted on the door near the wall with her palm. An alarm sounded and a voice came through on the intercom; 'Who's there? State your name and your business immediately or you will be neutralised without restraint!' Nell spoke up instantly. 'This is Nell of the Orange Star! We request entry! As you know, the city that we were stationed in has been attacked by Eagle's forces! The H.Q has been demolished! There are forces trapped above ground trying to survive!' The voice came through again, crystal clear; 'Enter you code!' Nell punched in 20 numbers with the tips of her fingers. Andy was shocked at the thought of having to remember a code like that. Now he knew why he wasn't higher in command than he is. The doors opened to 50 men, armed and ready to fire. 'Identity confirmed! At ease!' came a voice. A tall, stern looking man appeared from aside of the door. He shook Nell's hand. 'Good to see you're well. Are these 2 with you?'

'Indeed they are. I'm sure you'll remember Mr Andrews.' The man brought his friendly gaze to Andy. 'Ah, Mr Andrews. Greetings.' Andy shook the man's hand and nodded. 'And you are?' He said in a kind but harsh voice to Donna.

'I'm just a secretary.' He shook and nodded once more. He began to proceed up the 500 steps, followed by Andy and Nell. 'I'm afraid your friend must be escorted elsewhere in the premises. No risks can be taken.' Nell understood, and Donna was led off to another side of the room.

Back on the battlefield, numbers were falling steadily, about a man a minute falling. Max's tank unit held their ground, picking off enemies in no particular order, unable to purge the infinite flow of incoming transport boats. More and more kept hitting down and unleashing tanks, infantry and all that jazz, anything in order to take the city and crush the Orange Star. Eagle's actions still remained wholly unexplained, with no one having any clue as to who he was working for or why he was attacking the Orange Star. All they knew was he was now Eagle of the White sun. Whoever they were. He continued to circle overhead in his Death Squadron. Things looked grim. Things looked very, very grim.

'We need you to send backup forces immediately! Look, if we lose the city, we're basically folding to these White Sun people! It's one of the Orange Star's key positions, you know that! It's coastal! Losing it would be key to our downfall!' Nell's voice was raised and burning with desperation. The man considered. 'You're correct. We at the Orange Star have to look out for each other, no? I'll send forces immediately.'

Kensie sat with his back against the remains of a building. He was sitting next to his best friend. He'd met him years before. They recruited together. Now they were dying together. He kept leaning around the corner and firing off a few rounds before retreating back into cover. 'We gotta get out of here Kensie!' He said after firing a few more bullets off into the open with a vague hope of hitting something. 'I know! We have to get out, but there's no way!' His friend leaned out as Kensie was talking. 'Any ideas?' Kensie spoke as if he had a hope.

'Nope. I guess we just have to stick it out.' He replied, rolling back into cover. Earth and rubble blasted into the air beside them, the tank shell launching them up violently. Sami's voice rang out above the carnage; 'Move people! Keep moving!' All the soldiers ran between cover, some ducking, some firing, some charging blindly. Kensie and his friend Hendrix ran to the nearest structure, ducking, diving and firing as they went. They arrived at the building. The enemy infantry were pushing past the Orange Star tanks firing constantly, mowing down the enemy with gunfire and well placed grenades. The planes flew overhead, an omen of death. The Orange Star regiments were broken up now. Sami spoke again; 'REGROUP! BACK INTO REGIMENTS!' Kensie panicked. 'Where the hell are we meant to be?' Hendrix scanned the land for their Sergeant. 'He's over there!' He announced, his finger pointing firmly towards the man. 'Jesus! How the hell are we supposed to get over there!' The Sergeant was practically on the other side of the battlefield. 'On a stretcher?' Hendrix attempted to make light of the situation. It didn't work. 'Stop jokin' round! We're gonna die out here! We go on my signal. Ok…' The men prepared to charge. '…NOW!' They dashed out into the open as fast as their legs would allow. Another shell exploded, throwing Hendrix off his feet and out into the open. He instantly became the new target for the White Sun; infantry averted their aim and began to fire. Kensie continued to run, unaware of anything except the will to survive. Hendrix was shell shocked; the noise muffled, the world a blur. He rolled repeatedly, unable to stand. He did this blindly, unable to see any kind of cover. All of a sudden, vision returned, accompanied by the deafening noises that hit him hard like a bomb. He jumped up and began running. He only now realised he'd been shot in the arm in his lying state. The pain came to him searing and strong as he charged through the rubble, putting the limb out of action. Kensie had made it with his squad, and finally looked back to see Hendrix Make it into half-way cover; the ruins of a building. He took breaths and ran on, clutching his wounded arm. More shells tore up the dirt as he ran, his one goal his brotherhood of soldiers. He wasn't going to make it. They could all tell. The Sergeant began to shout; 'Give 'im cover fire, or hell knows he won't make it!' The squad came out of cover and began to fire. 'Jameson, Moore, he's wounded, go get 'im!' The men ran out bravely, one running whilst the over stayed a few steps behind, covering the man with suppressing fire. Moore grabbed him and supported him, Jameson still defending them with his gunfire. They ran as fast as they could. Jameson took a bullet to the head, piercing the centre of his flaking orange helmet and flying into his brain. His finger still remained on the trigger when he was dead, even when he fell. The bullets from his gun flew array with his downfall, firing erratically in all directions. One hit the man sitting next to Kensie, splintering his leg. He cried out in agony and collapsed. 'Someone get Jameson's gun before shoots the hell out of us all! A man ran out and stamped on the Jameson's corpses wrist, causing his fingers to fan out. He took his gun. He now had one in each hand. He pressed his fingers on the triggers and fired all the way back, killing three White Sun minions. The three arrived back safely, but Jameson remained dead.

Peter Henderson and Martyn Lane sat under the deck of a ship, locked in the dank brim with all the others the White Sun had laid mercy on. The ship was speeding back to a Prisoner of War camp. Everyone knew it. No one knew where it was. Peter kept repeating the same words again and again, his voice cold and his face blank. 'We're dead. We're dead. We're dead…' He wasn't helping keep the men's spirits high, to say the least. Martyn tried to calm him down; He placed his hand on his shoulder and spoke. 'It's gonna b-' He was cut off as Peter Threw him off and screamed directly in his face; 'WE'RE DEAD!' Martyn fell back. The prisoners jumped in reaction to the remark. One of them spoke. 'Jeez, someone call an exorcist or somethin'!' Martyn shook his head. Things were bad.

'OK! ARE WE ALL REGROUPED?' Sami was forced into using a megaphone to be heard over the shrill sounds of battle. The squads replied one by one. 'Yes m'am!'

'Regrouped, m'am!'

'Prepped an' ready!' The confirmations rang out through the ranks. The Sergeants all seemed eager to fight. No one else was. 'Ok people! We're not getting' out of this alive! It's time to push forward! Nice knowin' ya boys!' The people came out of hiding and into the open. Everything seemed to crawl to slow motion and blur as the men on the frontline opened fire, a suicidal strike to end it all. Explosions triggered, sending men flying about in a horrific manner. Soldiers became wounded and were killed. The tanks still fought on, about 10 remaining. Eagle's voice rang out over every radio on the field. 'SUFFER! SUFFER! What the?' The signal was lost, becoming nothing but white noise. Eyes turned to the sky as the man's plane spiralled to earth, flaming and missing a wing. All the Orange Star men turned back to a glorious sight.

Tanks, helicopters, planes, infantry, the whole package, storming the city by force, all guns blazing. Cheers rang out amongst the men. 'The cavalry has arrived!' The Orange Star were overcome with a new urge to fight. An urge to lead their nation to victory! Planes fell out of the sky, ships sank, Neo-tanks exploded in spectacular fashion. The battle raged on, the odds now tipped in favour of the men in orange. Andy's voice came through on the radios all round; 'Secure Eagle's plane! If he's alive, take him prisoner! His voice came from one of the transport helicopters. A group of men surrounded the wreckage and removed the man's unconscious body and carried him to a transport helicopter that had landed nearby. The copter was escorted off the field by to Panther class Attack Helicopters to ensure its safe return.

The ship took port on a small island. This was clearly where the source of the White Sun's units; there were harbours, barracks and airfields, all now relatively empty. The whole island was fenced off. The ship had come through a large gate guarded by SAM sites and machine gun nests. The White Sun clearly had things to hide. The prisoners were chained together by the hands and feet and led at gunpoint into an ultra-secure enclosure. Outside was a world of colour; in here all was bland and grey; dark and daunting. Extreme air conditioning meant everywhere was freezing cold. There were various huts, all identical in shape, size and colour; small grey cubicles housing a bed and a fireplace. On each mantle lay a box of matches. The fire was well stocked with plastic imitation wood. The matchbox was filled with matches with dud ends; their own little method of temperate torture; sinister but effective. The beds had no sheets, duvets or blankets. They consisted of a cold metal frame and a thin, hard mattress, under which the frame of the bed pressed through to cause back pain. There was a tunnel that led underground to various chambers of torture. Electro-shock, water torture, interrogation chamber, the list goes on. The men were forced to change into itchy grey shorts and vests and were marched into their respective 'house'. A voice came through surrounding speakers unspeakably loud; 'Let the re-education begin.'

After an hour of sitting in their rooms, the prisoners were led without a word into the dark underground. The voice came again 'Prepare to be disciplined!' They were each led into different rooms, all with the same form of 'discipline'. The men were chained to chairs in a pitch black room with full heating on. It was like a furnace, the hot air sapping at their energy. The only lighting in the room was a small lamp illuminating a glass of water, kept chilled by direct fans and ice. The doors slammed. The treatment lasted 24 hours. The chair delivered small electric shocks to prevent the men from falling asleep. Surely the brain workings of an evil man.

An Orange Star fighter swooped from the sky and unleashed a volley of spearhead missiles that pierced the bitter air of battle with violently great velocity. They exploded on impact, taking out 2 tanks and countless infantry. More birds of prey came swooping in, blinding white hawks on a pitch black canvas, majestic against the fog-filled sky, all in perfect formation, firing volleys of rounds into the enemy lines. Max leaned out of his tank and ordered his platoon to fire on the latest wave of White Sun Tanks. Shells flew through the air, punching holes in war-stained metal. The tides were turning in favour of the Orange Star.


End file.
